


The Gazebo

by Jolien, wanderingsmith



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Flirting, Frottage, Handyman Billy, Intimate touching, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25014706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolien/pseuds/Jolien, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: Goodnight has a gazebo that needs fixing. Billy is a professional™.
Relationships: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	The Gazebo

**Author's Note:**

> One more rises from the depths of our co-authored fanfiction folder. Written 2017.

Goodnight made his way across the green with his heart beating hard and his palms sweaty in the pockets of his sweatpants. They felt slicker with every step he took towards the trees that lined his late uncle’s giant – and, considering the local climate, outrageously green – property. Because here, in the shade, stood a small gazebo which had once been his great-great-aunts pride and joy.

Once upon a time, the delicately carved structure had been the jewel of the garden, until it had fallen into disrepair under the lackadaisical care of her sons and grandsons. Now it had passed into new hands. Along with the mansion behind and the woods before him, both of which called a rush of childhood memories to the surface he’d much rather forget.

Selling was the logical thing to do. The past dwelt on him enough for several lifetimes of men, he didn’t want to dwell on it in return any more than necessary. The moment the ownership papers had passed into his hand, he’d put the property up for sale.

To his mother’s horror, there was already a buyer making a generous offer: an eccentric young lawyer lady from New Orleans. Provided that the gazebo she’d heard so much about from her own relatives in the area was fixed up, she was ready to sign the contract at the end of the week.

Goodnight had secured the services of a specialist on restoration work – only the second best in the area, but available immediately – who just happened to be a well-muscled Korean guy with sinfully dark eyes. For two days, the man had been at work in his backyard; Goodnight had been able to keep himself from watching him through the window for exactly half an hour.

The sight that greeted him now would make the most firmly convinced owner re-consider any plans of giving this up.

The man – Billy – spotted him immediately, face lighting up subtly; or so Goodnight chose to see. He set down the beam he’d been lifting with such delightful muscle-shifts, wiped his brow and stepped over his dark blue toolbox. He was clad in a dirty wife-beater, sweaty and covered in sawdust, with strong legs covered in tight-fitting ripped jeans that flirted with the tops of his scuffed combat boots.

The very definition of eye-candy, in Goodnight’s books, and even knowing he was about to speak bad news, his knees went a little weak.

“Hey,” said Billy.

Goodnight cleared his throat. “Uh. Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“That, uh. Well, that would rather depend upon the definition of it.” Goodnight took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “As it happens, that is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Mr. Rocks.”

The man’s eyes narrowed.

 _Alright_ , Goodnight thought. _Here goes nothing_. “To keep things simple... uh. You might know I haven’t been in the city for long, with my uncle’s death hitting us so suddenly, and this inheritance -,” he pointed a thumb at the mansion behind him, “– coming somewhat unexpected. I, uh. I haven’t exactly had a chance to look around town yet. Or go to the bank... yet. I wasn’t aware it’s closed today.”

Confusion flickered across the other’s face, as if he wasn’t quite clear on what that had to do with him.

“I’m very sorry,” Goodnight stammered, feeling his cheeks heat. “I can’t pay you tonight.”

Billy’s eyes darkened in understanding. His eyebrows drew together.

Goodnight shifted uncomfortably, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. As soon as the man in front of him opened his mouth to reply, he blurted out: “I’m going to pay you, of course. First thing tomorrow, as soon as the tellers open. And in the meantime –”

He swallowed hard. “In the meantime I’ll be happy to offer you _anything I possibly can_ as compensation for the wait.”

With baited breath, he waited for that twitch in Billy’s face, that little tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. Once he saw it, Goodnight sidled carefully closer, batting his eyelashes. “Anything at all, Mr. Rocks.”

Billy’s face shifted from stoic to considering. “Well,” he began, giving Goodnight a slow once-over. “You’ll still need to pay me, of course. But right now,” he slowly wiped his hands on his wife-beater, and then, with a quick movement, pulled it over his head. “Right now I just happen to be wound so tight any kind of relief would be greatly appreciated.”

Goodnight snorted softly, affable grin firmly in place as he tried to keep from drooling at the perfect chest – smooth, chiselled, glistening warmly in the afternoon sun – revealed before him, within reach of his touch. “Oh, please. No need to overwhelm me with your appreciation or faith.”

“Not planning to do either,” Billy purred. He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, far more musculature flexing than the action seemed to strictly call for, not that Goodnight was complaining. “Now, _Mr. Robicheaux_ , you offered some compensation for not being able to pay me right away?”

Goodnight shivered under the heat of his gaze. He nodded enthusiastically, taking the pose and words as an invitation to get up close into the carpenter’s personal space. “Certainly. Whatever your interest, I’ll gladly cover it.”

“Whatever?”, Billy drawled, eyes glinting curiously. “Right here in the open, where everyone could see?”

A shudder trickled down Goodnight’s spine. “What ‘everyone’ do you see, exactly?”

He glanced around the property. His gaze was drawn to the freshly carved logs so recently hammered into place to form a rustically-railed hexagon. Each corner was backed by a small, trunk-sized log, with pointed-up roof-beams just waiting for thatch. Nicely rounded railings connected the structure, downright comfortable-looking... Goodnight turned a teasingly doubtful look on the other, barely catching the glimmer of pride in Billy’s eyes as he beheld the construction. “Are you sure it’s solid? Shouldn’t this be given a few structural tests?”

Billy was on him before he could finish his rather transparent invitation. He pushed Goodnight back against a roof beam, using his superior body-weight to pin him there, and caged him with a thigh between his knees and his fingers on the railings.

“This gazebo will outlast you, unless a nuclear strike gets it first,” he growled.

Goodnight’s eyes widened at the sound, eyes going wide. His parted lips felt dry, all of a sudden, breath going quicker with surprise. Even though he’d practically been throwing himself at the man mere moments before, he hadn’t quite expected such a swift reaction. Had Billy been feeling the same toe-curling attraction that had Goodnight’s heart hammering in his throat?

There were pleasant surprises – and then there were walking wet dreams. Getting backed into a corner by a wall of already-heated, sweat-slick muscles? Next level. Definitely.

Goodnight tried to shift without making too obvious what the developments had done to his lower half. He could feel Billy’s calluses on his wrists, trapping him against the well-sanded wood. He raised a leg and crooked it up behind his so-skilled carpenter’s thighs to jerk him forward until the last inches between them melted away in the summer heat.

Billy was hard in his pants. Goodnight could feel the heat and fullness of his chub through both of their jeans.

“You’re not the first one to want to... ascertain they got their money’s worth before paying me,” Billy rumbled, inching closer until his naked chest touched Goodnight’s shirt, hard nipples brushing up against the fabric. “So if you’re not concerned about any surprise visitors out here, be my guest. Test away until you’re _thoroughly satisfied_.”

Breath catching as the welcome pressure had his cock swelling up even more, Goodnight tugged a little harder with his leg, leaning his head forward to lick, teasing, at the fine line of hairs over the man’s lip. “Well, you certainly offer good lip service. And your materials _look_ to be of the highest quality.”

Amusement shone in Billy’s eyes. He might have said more, but with their lips so close there was really only one thing to do: give in to temptation and tilt his head. Goodnight met him halfway, tightening his grip on the man as he kissed him. It was close-mouthed, soft warm lips sliding against each other surprisingly gently, feeling out the shape of what was growing between them in that moment – testing, inching towards something more heated.

Goodnight opened his lips, but to his frustration, Billy drew back.

Mirth curled his lips. “Our company stands for outstanding work from the beginning to the very end,” he said. His hand slid further to grip Goodnight’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze that drew him down onto Billy’s thigh at the same time. “We like to pay special attention to each client, because fulfilling their every need is our pleasure.”

Somewhere between that growly purr sending shivers down his spine and the raspy promise of that smoothly-delivered line, Goodnight’s mouth dropped open. He could usually hold his own at seduction, but as he took the invitation to ground down on that rough, jean-covered limb and watched the carpenter’s eyes narrow with arousal on his obviously-tented, paint-spattered sweatpants, he had the distinct feeling of being out of his league. It was... a thrilling discovery.

Goodnight tightened his grip on the railing and shimmied his ass down a little, not missing the impressive flex of muscle as the fellow shifted under him. A slow grin quirked his lips, trailing his eyes happily down that fucking amazing chest, sawdust stuck to it and all. He stopped on the very nice shape filling out those heavy-duty workman’s pants. “You’re doing a bang-up job, up to now, Mr. Rocks,” he assured, somewhat out of breath, his hips starting to shift, shamelessly rubbing his crotch into his hard perch. “I still owe you a deposit on what you’ve earned, regardless of... the longevity of this... perfectly-assembled wood.”

Billy chuckled, apparently willing to concede that, yeah, that was a good one. He shifted a little to support the slightly awkward but very satisfying position they were in, eyes slipping shut as it brought Goodnight snug against him, both fumbling a bit until they found comparable rhythms. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you will make the arrangements to our mutual satisfaction, Mr. Robicheaux.”

The summer breeze swirled around them, carrying with it the smell of the blooming garden, but it couldn’t dispel the carpenter’s own scent, rising from his heated skin: old wood and resin, steel tools and a hard day’s work; all of it far more alluring than any flowers.

Goodnight bit down on a groan. The fact that this gorgeous man seemed perfectly happy to have Goodnight rub off against his thigh was enough to take his breath away.

They were panting harshly against each other’s mouths now, grinding into one another. Billy snaked a hand down between them to slip it into Goodnight’s pants without moving away. It was a tight fit. Goodnight’s soft underwear was embarrassingly damp already. Billy had to be able to feel it as he rubbed it, chasing the touch of hot flesh.

“Now tell me,” he murmured, a hair’s width away from sealing his lips to Goodnight’s again, “Does my work pass your inspection?”

This time, the teasing ‘Mr. Rocks’ didn’t withhold access to his mouth when Goodnight dove for him, leaning in to lick and forgetting himself and closing his teeth on his bottom lip as the man’s hand closed around his cock through his underwear and squeezed too damn lightly. Just as well, the man’s ‘work’ was indeed skilled: Goodnight’s fingers were going to lose their grip on their very solid railing pretty soon.

But he’d been hoping for more than just a hand job, if he were honest.

Billy’s mouth trailed down to suck on his neck. “Have I rendered you speechless?”, he inquired playfully, giving the cock a firmer squeeze. “Or do you require firmer assertion?”

Goodnight really just wanted to tilt his neck back, invite more of that sucking. Those teeth. Those words. He wanted to ride those fingers and to hell with everything. But damned if any Robicheaux was going to just lay back without giving as good as they took.

He hitched his leg higher on the man’s waist, pushing onto the railing to sit himself up firmly. He got his hands on Billy’s shoulders – those sinfully round, strong shoulders – to hold himself in place, glad for his looser sweats adjusting to the new angle of Rocks’ hand. Grinning and warmed by the soft humour the man had worn up to now, he drawled: “Just making sure I gave full consideration to the results. And I’m thinking any good structure has to be flexible enough to bend under severe conditions.”

He could see Billy’s mouth twitch at that, trying to hold back a laugh. “I see you’re not only an expert in the arts but business as well. Fair enough. I’ll be happy to _lend a hand_ wherever I can. Or am I already?”

He gave his cock a squeeze and Goodnight could, off the top of his head, think of at least seven different things he wanted Rocks to test his _flexibility_ over.

“Now, Mr. Robicheaux. Shall we begin?”

Goodnight snorted at the formality. “Goodnight, please.”

He leaned forward and pushed his tongue into Billy’s mouth, fingers tangling in his beautiful dark hair. It was damp with sweat, perfect to hold onto with one hand while the other dove between them to carefully unsnap those lovely tight working jeans before lowering the zipper. It was a struggle to fit in between the cloth and – goddamn, he was a lucky bastard – a hell of a lot of swollen flesh.

Billy sighed softly, flexing his cock against the teasing touch. He let go of Goodnight’s dick and slid his hand around to stroke two fingers down the crack of his ass. The move brought them even closer together, trapping Goodnight’s hand between them.

Licking down the side of Goodnight’s neck and lower between his collarbones, Billy dipped his tongue into the ‘V’ of Goodnight’s shirt. “Hmm,” he hummed, scratching lightly at Goodnight’s tailbone. “In my expert’s opinion, this setup might benefit from a slight repositioning.”

He exerted a little bit of pressure against the pucker, chuckling when he felt it tense.

Goodnight groaned, nails digging into skin. “Fuck this,” he hissed. “You know where the bedroom is. Just, just... ah, fuck.”

Billy laughed, all white teeth and victory. “As you wish, Mr. Robicheaux.”


End file.
